Chapter Twenty-Three: Changes

It had been a while since Guinevere had last played the piano, since she preferred the organ and violin. No one was in the Blue Room when she entered and sat at the grand piano. As the music filled the room Mimsy entered the room and sat in a chair along the wall, nearest the piano. Guinevere ignored her and continued to play. She still felt guilty for naming her unborn cousin the heir without consulting her aunt. The less people that know, the better it will work out…and the safer they will be. She reminded herself since the visit to Goth Manor.
“Guinevere.” Mimsy spoke, interrupting.
“Yes?” She looked at her aunt with a smile that masked her slight irritation.
“I would like you to give me a makeover. Everything is becoming more modern and I would like to become more modern too.” This surprised Guinevere, but it was a pleasant one. I’ve been dying to get her into something more modern…I swear she’s been wearing the same style of dress for centuries. But why now?
“What brought this on really? I’ve been trying to convince you since I moved back.”
“I feel like Bernie doesn’t find me attractive anymore. He hasn’t touched me since I announced the pregnancy.” Oh.
“That’s normal…I think. He’s probably terrified of hurting the baby.”
“No matter, I still would like a makeover. I don’t want to look like a relic of the past anymore.”
“If you say so. I’ll bring the clothes I bought for you ages ago and you can pick what you want. Meet you in your room.” Guinevere rushed up to her room with her vampiric speed, leaving Mimsy to waddle up the flights of stairs.

Guinevere had the clothes sprawled on the bed in an unorganized pile by the time Mimsy made it to her room. “Why didn’t you fly?” Guinevere asked with concern.
“I’m afraid of harming the child. It’s been a while since I’ve dealt with a vampire pregnancy…or any pregnancy. I have no idea what’s safe and what’s not.”
“Fair enough.” Guinevere sat on the bed and waved her arm in the direction of the clothes. “I picked all of these out for you, most are blue or purple since I know those are your favorite colors.” Mimsy waddled to the pile and looked through it. It didn’t take her long to weed out the things she liked and disliked. Guinevere noticed the things she kept were dresses of modest length with very little exposed cleavage. Little steps.
“I also want you to style my hair and freshen up my makeup. Please.” Her aunt was borderline begging.
“Of course. First, pick out something to wear. Then I’ll do the rest.” Mimsy nodded and walked to the wardrobe to peel off the dress she was wearing and hang it up before slipping on a floral dress that accentuated the baby bump.

Guinevere spent an hour brushing out Mimsy’s hair and putting it into an more modern up-do. Then she did her makeup in a lightweight nude palette with a rose lipstick. Since a mirror didn’t work to show Mimsy her new look, Guinevere thought of a genius workaround. She took a picture with her cellphone. Why didn’t I think to do this sooner? It might be difficult when applying makeup to yourself, but at least you can see the final product. The look on Mimsy’s face made Guinevere grin with pride.
“That’s me?!” Mimsy took the phone from Guinevere and examined the picture closely. “Wow. I look amazing without the ripples and mis-brushstrokes.”
“Duh? You’re my aunt, of course you’re gorgeous.” Guinevere teased and took her phone back. As soon as she placed it on the bed, she was ambushed with a hug from Mimsy.
“Thank you so much Guinevere. I feel like a new woman.”
“You are a new woman. You’re going to be a mother for the first time in however old you are. I hear motherhood changes a woman, even before the baby is born.”

Just as Guinevere was leaving, Mimsy gasped.
“The baby’s kicking. Hurry, come and feel.” Guinevere rushed back and placed her hands gently on the bump.
“Hello little one. I’m your cousin.” Guinevere stood in awe with her hands firmly in place. She was feeling the miracle of life, and felt a tinge of jealousy and various degrees of regret. I should’ve had my own child when I had the chance…I’m so sorry for making you my heir. I honestly had no other choice and I hope you’ll understand if the time ever comes. I know being a king or queen was something your mother never would have wanted for you…it’s a stressful and often it’s a fatal job, but you’re my mother’s blood. So I have all the faith in the world that you’ll do fine.